Magic In The Storm by Meredith Bond Page B

picture of himself and Oberon as they were
just moments ago.
    She had been watching!
    He continued to look at the picture, even as
this knowledge sent an excited chill down his body. But there was
something more here. There was something else in the picture,
beyond the simple representation of him and Oberon, which,
admittedly, was excellent.
    A feeling came over him as he stood staring
at the picture. It was a feeling of happiness—no, not just
happiness, but contentment and joy. He felt like laughing once
again at the good feelings embodied in the sketch. And he felt...
he felt a stirring in his nether regions as heat rushed to that
part of his body. Yes, he felt desire. But it wasn’t desire for the
woman who had drawn the picture—although he couldn’t help but admit
to some of that as well.
    It was more that she had been feeling desire
for him when she’d drawn the picture.
    He didn’t know how he knew that, but somehow
underneath the lines and smudges that made up the picture were
these feelings. He felt all of her feelings as he looked at her
sketch.
    It made absolutely no sense. He had never
felt emotions and feelings when looking at pictures before. Why
would he do so now?
    Morgan walked toward the river bank and sat
down on the soft grass, still examining the drawing.
    The scars on his back caught his eye. He had
never seen them before, but naturally, he knew they were there. His
mother had lashed out at him, scolding him and berating him so many
times the marks were now permanent. He had never allowed her words
to hurt him emotionally, but looking at the drawing, he knew that
just seeing his scars had hurt the young woman.
    He felt bad, and wished he could have soothed
her, told her that it was all right, really. But she was gone. An
empty feeling of frustration settled in his gut.
    Out of curiosity, he turned the book over and
turned back a page.
    There was another picture of him and Oberon
playing. This time they were in the water. His hand was reaching
out for the stick while Oberon’s mouth was nearly on it. Morgan
knew that he would snatch that stick right out from under Oberon’s
nose and laugh heartily over the dog just missing it. But that
knowledge was not because he had just experienced it, it was
because the drawing told him so.
    He shook his head in disbelief. It was a
drawing, a sketch. And yet, he felt as if he were there watching
this happen. He could feel the warmth of the day, hear the sound of
the splashing water as he and Oberon swam about.
    Morgan looked around to see if he could
possibly be experiencing something that was really happening. But
the river was quietly rushing past as always, and the sun had
hidden itself behind a cloud.
    He looked back at the drawing, and heard the
splashing sound again. He could almost see the water in the picture
undulating with his movements and Oberon’s. And once again, he
could feel the happiness the woman had felt as she had watched them
play. But there was another feeling in this picture as well. Not so
much desire, as there had been in the first drawing, but something
more akin to embarrassment. Yes, she had been embarrassed at seeing
him naked.
    That was why she hadn’t come and spoken to
him! She had been embarrassed by his nudity! Morgan nearly
laughed.
    He turned back another page in the book and
stared directly into his own face. Suddenly the hollowness he had
felt the other day was filled. It was an amazing likeness.
    This drawing too was filled with
emotions—wonderment, curiosity, interest, and the same feeling of
familiarity he had felt when he’d first seen her in the woods the
day before. He longed to find out how they both had this feeling,
and where it was coming from. He knew they’d never met before, and
yet, he’d felt so right being with her. He’d felt...complete and
happy. He needed to feel that again.
    But there was nothing he could do until she
came and actually spoke to him instead of just drawing pictures of
him.
    And